


Breathe

by Crouching Queer (Subarucomet)



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asphyxiation, Choking, Deadpool 2 - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Under-negotiated Kink, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, based off that scene, deadpool is not in the best mental state
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 00:19:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subarucomet/pseuds/Crouching%20Queer
Summary: An alternate take on the scene where Colossus chokes Deadpool.It’s not Deadpool’s fault; he was vulnerable and Colossus was big, bulky, andthere.





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I'm back on my bullshit again.

He’d never liked getting choked before. Sure it looked hot in porn but it reminded him too much of Francis and the torture he had to undergo to become a regenerating overripe avocado.

Colossus’s hand was big _and_ it was metal. Most of Deadpool’s favourite things were metal: swords, guns, discount dildos that should probably be nowhere near his ass. This was something else. Heat pooled into his stomach, resting deep in his gut, pricking his lungs like the sharp points of rocks. It hurt, but in a way that was grounding. He couldn’t be anywhere but there, in this quiet hallway, with a hand around his neck and his toes barely brushing the ground.

Colossus was still yelling but Deadpool was kinda used to that and he tuned out the tirade; instead, he focused on the unyielding strength of Colossus’s hands. His head was light. The world was made of crumbling strokes of colour and warmth. He could only think of the constriction around his throat, everything else was finally, finally silent. _Vanessa_ , _Vanessa_ , _Vanessa—Air_. Air, ringing in his heart, reverberating in his lungs. He wanted to die. He wanted to _breathe_.

“That’s what friends do. They show up—”

 _Friend_. That caught his attention. Deadpool decided that the only thing that was better than being choked, was being choked because someone _cared_. He looked at Colossus a little moony-eyed, a little dazed, more out of lack of oxygen than actual affection but it was something. Christ, he really was fucked up.

“Deadpool, are you even listening to me?”

God, that shitty Russian accent was just _dreamy_. He really fucking needed this.

The hand around his throat tightened and large dark spots twirled lazily in front of his eyes, growing wider and blacker. In between them he could see Colossus’s steel face glow bright in the hazy sunlight.

Deadpool moaned and Colossus looked confused, staring at him. “Deadpool?” He said, distracted from the rest of his speech about truth, liberty and the Russo-American way.

Deadpool twitched his hands in a way that he hoped communicated, ‘I can’t talk if you’re choking me, but please, don’t let that stop you.’

Fucking Colossus didn’t seem to understand and the hand around his neck loosened and Deadpool dropped to the floor. Well wasn’t he the horniest sack of potatoes that ever was.

Deadpool rubbed his neck; he could already feel the bruises healing beneath his skin and his larynx rebuilding. Colossus really hadn’t tried to control himself. It was good while it lasted.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… yelled at you like that.” Colossus said, tensing up, as though he was just beginning to realise what was happening but didn’t want to and wanted to run away before he did. Deadpool would have let him go but he could feel the fragility of their friendship strung out between them, so easy to test and tear, and Christ did he want to _pull_.

“Colossus, you little tease.” His voice was a little rougher than he expected but then he did just get choked out by an 8 foot tower of metal. Wade spread his legs deliberately wider, so that the stiff line of his dick was visible through the soft material of his borrowed sweats. “You aren’t gonna finish what you started?”

Colossus didn’t respond. Man, if he knew inappropriate boners rendered Colossus speechless he would have popped a Viagra ages ago. Deadpool swallowed roughly, the slick sounds of throat working loud in the quietness of the hall.

Colossus looked mildly nauseated, maybe he was blushing. Deadpool couldn’t really tell. Huh. He may look like a walking, talking ballsack but that was just _rude._ Hadn’t he read the Ugly Duckling? Beauty was on the inside, right next to the prostate—

“We can’t do this now.”

Oh. Now that was interesting, was Colossus trying to avoid him? Very likely. Or maybe he wanted to fuck him in the privacy of his own room? Very, very unlikely, but hey weirder shit had happened. He struggled to his feet, and Colossus, ever the gentlemen, offered his hand to help him up. Deadpool didn’t take it. Instead, he pressed close to him. “There’s no one here.” He said. There was something weirdly erotic about watching the giant of a man shrink back.

“Wade, please. You’re not thinking—” Colossus said plaintively, face surprisingly inscrutable.

“When do I ever? Not like I got to where I am right now with a sound decision making sense and a dream journal.” His t-shirt felt tight, the threadbare fabric rough against his scarred skin. His dick was still hard, pulsing with each beat of his heart. He didn’t feel good, but he felt something, which was better than the dull static that had filled for the past few weeks. He _wanted_. He wanted desperately. “Please,” he whispered hoarsely.

Colossus looked taken aback by the lust in his voice and his own willingness. “Are you sure?”

Wade pressed himself against the hard front of Colossus’ body, and his throat ached with the thought of what was to come. “You wanna help me? This is how.”

* * *

There was something weirdly dirty about doing this in the middle of the day in a house full of kids. It wasn’t a problem for him, he’d lost his sense of shame a long time ago. But he could tell Colossus was a little scared. The man’s fingers trembled as he locked the door behind them. The handle had the impression of his fingers left on them. _Fuck_.

Deadpool sat down on the narrow bed. His hard-on had managed to calm down during the walk here but he could still feel residual arousal circling in his stomach, a vice around his chest.

Colossus turned to him hesitantly, looking like he needed guidance or a shot of whisky.

Deadpool sighed. “Come over here.” He said, patting the space beside him.

Colossus looked stricken. Watching Deadpool like he was some feral creature but he sat down next to him, not touching but Wade could feel the heat roll off his body. From this close, Colossus smelt like oil and metal, like a gun. Deadpool watched the muscles in his arms tense as he clenched and unclenched his fingers. He was really starting to appreciate the uniform.

“What do you want, Deadpool?” Said Colossus, shifting slightly so that their thighs brushed against each other. His voice was deeper, a little scared, but there was something darker there that Colossus was trying to repress and Wade could work with that.

“I’m hoping for a hand job at least, but if you wanna ride my dick, that’s cool too.”

Fuck. Colossus really was blushing, there was this odd silvery tint right over his cheeks. How the fuck did solid metal even blush? Science really was bullshit in the Marvel Universe. Colossus stiffened, leaning into Deadpool’s space. Almost there. “Bozhe moi.” Colossus murmured, so faint that Deadpool could barely hear it. He felt more than saw Colossus shudder next to him.

“Seriously though, just choke the fuck out of me.” Deadpool figured he’d push this a little and winked. “Dad—”

Before he could blink, Deadpool was on his back and Colossus’s hand was around his throat. The bed creaked beneath them at the sudden movement. He was crushed beneath Colossus’s weight. Okay. He didn’t expect that to happen so quickly. Christ, did Colossus have a daddy kink? He felt vaguely that this must have something to do with his whole taking care of Wade thing, but he couldn’t think clearly enough to figure it out.

Deadpool writhed closer and _oh fuck,_ Colossus was hard, really fucking hard. So this really wasn’t pity sex. Colossus actually liked this. Deadpool felt vindicated, anyone who wandered around in tight leather had to be a fucking kinky bastard.

Colossus had taken care not to put his full weight on him, instead resting on his knees and his elbow. Deadpool was still trapped beneath him, hips pinned by Colossus’s torso. He was so warm, like the outside of an engine and Deadpool was starting to sweat. He could come like this, with the steady pressure around his throat and his dick trapped between them. He could come like this and it would feel so fucking good.

“It’s nice, you know? I don’t think you’ve been quiet for this long since you learnt how to talk.” Colossus said, accent thicker than molten lead.

Deadpool’s hips jerked up slightly, rubbing against the hard ridges of Colossus’s abs. “Fuck.” He mouthed, unable to vocalise properly. This was really fucking hot. Colossus was looking at him, not into his eyes because that would be _gay_ , but at his fingers curling around Wade’s vulnerable throat. His grip tightened and Deadpool’s conception of the world narrowed. He needed to fucking breathe. God, but he needed to come more.

Deadpool’s hands raised up to his neck. He was too weak to do anything more than rest them over Colossus’s. His lungs were exploding and the world was going dark at the edges and he couldn’t move. He was stuck, just existing, listening enviously to the rattle of air as Colossus breathed.

“You want me to touch you.” Colossus said and loosened his hold so that Deadpool could breathe again. It was a confirmation more than a question.

The world gained solidity, detail and he could feel the softness of the fabric of the bed sheet, the grain of the wood in the headboard, the firmness of Colossus’s dick against his thigh. He was here, he was alive and he felt like he was burning, oxidising, all that oxygen combusting and filling him with heat.

 “Yes.” It was all he could say. He was still breathless, body trembling as he gasped. “Yes, Colossus, I need—“

“Shh, да? You don’t need to beg.” Colossus reached out with his big hand and rubbed at the sharp plane of Deadpool’s cheekbone gently.  

Deadpool was infinitely grateful that in spite of all things, Colossus was kind. His hands closed around Deadpool’s throat, softer this time, so that if Deadpool gasped he could get just enough air. He sounded like he was sobbing, but he couldn’t care less because Colossus was reaching down and cupping the length of his dick. He almost hadn’t expected that. Choking he could get. Who wouldn’t want to choke him?

The metal was surprisingly cool against the heated, blood-warm skin of his dick and he twitched as Colossus pushed his pants down.

“Fuck—“He managed to choke. His Adam’s apple bobbing against Colossus’s fingers as he swallowed. _Oh fuck, fuck, fuck—_

Colossus tutted. “Language, Wade.” And his hands tightened around Deadpool’s throat. Deadpool’s dick twitched again, this time leaking a bead of pre-come that Colossus rubbed over the head with his thumb. “Let me take care of you properly.”

Wade nodded, Colossus could make him do whatever he wanted; he just needed to come. That’s all he wanted. He canted his hips upward, trying desperately to fuck the metal-smooth space of Colossus’s fist. He tried once again but he could feel the energy leaving his body and he let himself go limp, slumping into the mattress with a soft thud.

Colossus smiled in approval. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

 _That’s kind of the point_ , thought Deadpool fuzzily, but he didn’t try saying anything because Colossus still had his dick in his hand. Any remaining thoughts evaporated as Colossus started jerking him off quickly. The metal of his hands was surprisingly slippery, but Deadpool could feel the ridge of each joint in his finger. There was nothing soft about, he was nothing like—

Colossus’s thumb rubbed against the sensitive juncture where throat met jaw. He didn’t feel human, none of this felt human. He could feel the slick weight of his tongue in his mouth, the quivering beat of his pulse against the unnatural smoothness of Colossus’s fingers. There was something. Something more to this and he was just on the cusp of understanding. His lungs were burning, he needed—

He was coming. In stripes across Colossus’s stomach. It felt like being split open, like a release and there was no burning. He just was.

It ended, of course, because orgasms don’t last forever and he needed air. Colossus seemed to understand and loosened his hold, fingers resting soft on Deadpool’s throat. They were silent for a moment, breathing.

A knock at the door. Colossus flinched so hard his fingers tightened and for one endless second Deadpool couldn’t breathe again.

“Colossus?” It was Negasonic. She really did have perfect timing.

“Coming.” Colossus yelled in the direction of the door.

“Oh you will be.” Deadpool whispered, his hand reached down to the bulge in Colossus’s pant but was batted away.

“Is Deadpool with you?” Negasonic asked.

“Да, just give us a moment.” Colossus said, getting up off the bed slowly.

He didn’t get a response. She was already gone.

“We will talk about this later.” Colossus said, nose wrinkling as he wiped the come off his shirt.

Wade just watched him, mind silent.

Colossus paused at the door, looking back at Wade with something like fondness in his eyes.

Maybe this could be okay, Wade thought. Maybe everything could actually be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> (I cut this bit out because it didn't fit with the overall tone of the story, but fuck it, I'll put it here anyway)
> 
> Deadpool was a self-aware guy. He was funny, smart, a grade-A badass but he was also probably had a teensy bit of crippling depression and suicidal tendencies. But what right-minded person in this economy didn’t? You blow up your entire apartment once and suddenly you’re a ‘danger to the community’ and ‘you need some help.’ Which was bullshit because he was both of those things way before he decided to Hurt Locker his home.
> 
> He wanted to break something: himself, the world, it didn’t matter. He wanted something destroyed beyond repair. That was probably why he was trying to crash into every expensive looking thing as he lurched through the halls. Deadpool 1, fancy old statue and effective coping strategies 0. 
> 
> But Colossus—the killjoy (not the Marvel character)—wouldn’t let him do that. It was a sad day when Wade Wilson couldn’t wallow in his own self-pity, almost as sad as the day Green Lantern was released. 
> 
> He was tired of this bullshit. He wanted to die. He wanted Vanessa back. He was tired and he was never, ever going to be a fucking X-man. Didn’t Colossus realise yellow made his ass look big, like a thicc-ass bumblebee? He was not going down that road again. 
> 
> Oh Whopper Loving Jesus Fuck. Colossus just hulked the fuck out (he could say that, right? Was it trademarked? Did it even fucking matter?) And started choking him. He expected that to happen eventually, he was pretty annoying when he wanted to be. What was unexpected though was his response. 
> 
> (I'm not funny but I tried??? Kudos and comments are my cocaine btw!)


End file.
